The following, which is taken from http://www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-kent/vol2/pp2-22, seems at first not to concern Dartford Manor, but its pattern of ownership is the same, I am assured, and the next link after this, to Dartford itself, does not relate this earlier ownership in full. It is of interest to Ricardians and all Yorkists, although the former had best grit their teeth for some of what it says. Poor old Richard is maligned again. Anyway, here goes with the ownership of Dartford, albeit from the BHO Chesilhurst pages.

“…[On the death of John, Earl of Somerset, then Duke of Somerset in the reign of Henry VI] his brother Edmund, marquis of Dorset, was found to be his next heir male, and as such possessed this estate [Chesilhurst – and also Dartford]. He was afterwards advanced to the title of Duke of Somerset, and taking part with Henry VI. was slain in the first battle of St. Alban’s … the manor of Dartford, with Chesilhurst, was … granted to Richard Nevill, earl of Warwick, commonly called the King Maker, who, after many changes from one side to the other, was slain, endeavouring to replace king Henry on the throne, at the battle of Barnet, in the year 1471. By his wife, Anne, daughter of Richard Beauchamp, earl of Warwick, who survived him, he left only two daughters, who both married into the royal family; Isabel to George duke of Clarence. brother to king Edward IV. and Anne, first to Edward prince of Wales, son of king Henry VI. and, secondly, to Richard duke of Gloucester, afterwards king Richard III.

“After the earl’s death, though his estates were seized by the authority of parliament, yet great part of them were afterwards given to his two daughters, and among others the manor of Dartford, with the rents of assize in Chesilhurst, was given to Isabel, whose husband, George duke of Clarence, in her right, became possessed of them. After which the duke falling under the suspicion of the king, his brother, was in parliament, anno 1477, attainted, being then a prisoner in the tower, and was soon afterwards, with the king’s consent, drowned in a butt of malmsey, the duke of Gloucester assisting with his own hands By Isabel his wife, who died of poison sometime before him, he had issue Edward earl of Warwick, then an infant, who never enjoyed any part of his patrimony.

“Soon after the duke’s death, this manor being in the king’s hands, by reason of his son’s nonage, was granted to Thomas lord Stanley for life, and although king Henry VII. in his third year, being desirous of securing to himself the possessions which the great earl of Warwick died possessed of, recalled the old countess of Warwick from her retirement in the north, where she lived in a distressed and mean condition, both her daughters being dead, and by a new act, annulling the former, restored to her all her late husband’s possessions, with power for her to alien any part of them, not with the intent that she should enjoy them, but merely that she might transfer them to the king, which she did that year, by a special seossment and a fine, by which she granted the whole, consisting of one hundred and fourteen manors, among which was that of Dartford, with the rents of assize in Chesilhurst, to the king and his heirs male, with remainder to herself and her heirs for ever. Yet this estate continued in possession of the lord Stanley. . .”

“….manor [of Dartford] went in the same succession of ownership as that of Chesilhurst, which was a member of it, as has been already fully described before, and to which the reader is referred (excepting that king Richard III. in his first year, granted the reversion of it, being then in the possession of the lord Stanley, to John Brooke, lord Cobham, to hold by knights service; (Harleian MSS. No. 433–764. Dugd. Bar. vol. ii. p. 282.) but he [Cobham] never came to the possession of it, for king Henry VII. on his obtaining the crown, secured this reversion of it to himself….”

Aha! Henry strikes again, keeping this reversion for himself instead of returning it to his father-in-law, Stanley. Wouldn’t you think he’d undo Richard’s work by rendering unto Stanley the things that were Stanley’s? And Stanley’s heirs?. But oh, no, we know Henry too well, do we not? If he could claw something close unto to his bony Tudor chest, he would! And, in this case, did. Look after the pennies, and the pounds look after themselves, right, Henry? Not that I care if Stanley was deprived of anything, you understand.

Well, I’m afraid I find the above picture outlandish. She looks as if her neck has been twisted and then pulled! Why do religious houses think such things are desirable and respectful? To me they are anything but. I know, I know, it’s a matter of taste, and beauty is in the eye of the beholder, etc. etc., but this particular work remains outlandish! The scene depicted is of the lady’s hands producing holy light…instead she looks like a throttled chicken in a habit!

Well, British Summer time is now officially over and the hardy henge-workers are currently moving the megaliths at Avebury and Stonehenge into their winter-hours position!

Time to celebrate the exciting festival shortly to take place–no, not Christmas (yet)–but the quasi-pagan Halloween, All Hallows/AllSaints/All Souls…and the execution of Henry Stafford, Duke of Buckingham in Salisbury Market Square on November 2!

Catherine de Valois wooden funeral effigy on the left and the stone head thought to represent her on the right.

Westminster Abbey is the home to a collection of unique and wonderful medieval wooden funeral effigies. These are to go on show once again in June 2018 with the opening the Abbey’s new Jubilee Galleries. Some of them are definite death masks such as those of Edward III and Henry VII although there is very little doubt that they are all portraits of those they represent (1). The one I am focussing on here is that of Katherine de Valois, wife to Henry V. There are few if any surviving portraits of Katherine so her effigy is especially interesting as to how she actually looked. To give a brief résumé Katherine’s remains were removed from their original burial site in the old Lady Chapel when it was demolished to make way for Henry Tudor’s grandiose new Chapel. They were then left above ground, next to her husband’s monument for the next two hundred years. Samuel Pepys recorded in his diary on visiting the abbey he was able to take Katherine in his arms and kiss her on the lips. Poor Katherine. Eventually in 1778 Katherine was placed in a vault. Finally in the 19th century, Dean Stanley had her reburied beneath the alter in her husband’s chantry. Thank goodness for that!

Now fresh interest has recently been ignited by the discovery of a stone head in Meath, Ireland, which is believed to represent Katherine. Here is an interesting article covering the story.

Take a look at the wooden effigy and the stone head, compare and judge for yourselves.

Whilst visiting Norwich to see the Whitefriars plaque to Lady Eleanor Talbot, Richard’s sister-in-law, in Tomblands near the Cathedral, I happened to take lunch in a particular hostelry, the Glass House. It is principally named for the city’s stained glass industry and various panels, also commemorate the author Harriet Martineau, the rebel Robert Kett, Cotman and the other “Norwich School” artists.

The panel nearest the main door was this one (left). Sir Thomas, who bore the name of a North Norfolk village, served John of Gaunt, helped to implement Henry IV’s usurpation before joining Henry V as an archery commander at Harfleur and Azincourt, and eventually dying in 1428. The other pictures are of Sir Thomas, Henry IV and the Upper Close at Norwich Cathedral.

“The location of Perrydon has caused much debate as it is the name of several rivers; first and foremost Perrydon may have been an alternative name for that great Welsh river the Dee. Geoffrey of Monmouth mentions a ‘fluvium Perironis‘ which is rendered as Afon Perrydon in early Welsh translations. The early 12th century Book of Llandaf references a charter which locates Aber Periron in the area of Rockfield near Monmouth, Geoffrey’s home town, where the stream known as Nant Gwern joins the Monnow. This is probably the same Aber Peryddon recorded in the 10th century prophesy Armes Prydain, which was crossed on the journey into Wales.

“Peryddon may also have been an early name for the stream at Sandyhaven Pill in Rhos, Pembrokeshire which runs down from Castell Gwalchmai (Walwyn’s Castle) into the estuary at Milford Haven. William of Malmesbury confirms that his grave was discovered in Ros in the late 11th century: “At that time [1087], in a province of Wales called Ros [Rhos] was found the sepulchre of Walwin, the noble nephew of Arthur…..He deservedly shared, with his uncle, the praise of retarding, for many years, the calamity of his failing country. The sepulchre of Arthur is nowhere to be seen, whence ancient ballads fable that he is still to come. But the tomb of the other [i.e. Walwin], as I have suggested was found in the time of King William, on the sea coast, fourteen feet long….” – [John K Bollard, Englynion y Beddau (Stanzas of the Graves), Carreg Gwalch, 2015] “Walwin is the Latin rendering of Gwalchmai. Rhos in Pembrokeshire is probably a reference to St. Govan’s Chapel with whom Gawain is often confused. Saint Govan was a 6th century hermit who lived in a fissure on the side of a cliff near Bosherston, just along on the Pembrokeshire coast from Milford Haven. . .”

Confused? It’s not surprising when so many languages render the same name in vastly different spellings.

Anyway, regarding Gawain/Gwalchmai/Walwyn/Walwin, what I did not know is that he is also supposed to have been buried in a chapel in Dover Castle, where (according to Malory) his head and mantle were on display for some time:-

“And so at the hour of noon Sir Gawaine yielded up the spirit; and then the king let inter him in a chapel within Dover Castle; and there yet all men may see the skull of him, and the same wound is seen that Sir Launcelot gave him in battle.” [Thomas Malory, Le Morte d’Arthur, Book XXI, Chapter 2. Published by Caxton in 1485]

According to clasmerdin’s blog, “Malory also describes Gawain’s burial at Dover, the hero is interred in a chapel at the castle, and he claims that the skull still showed evidence of the head wound. The medieval castle at Dover has two chapels, no one is sure in which Gawain is supposed to be buried, although some favour the lower chapel. All we can say with any certainty is that from Caxton’s ‘Preface‘ we can only assume a skull was on display at Dover castle, and had been for over a century, and that in his day it was popularly believed to be that of Gawain.”

I only happened upon any of this because I was doing some research which led me to The Journey of Viscount Ramon de Perellós to Saint Patrick’s Purgatory. This journey to Ireland commenced in September 1397. See here

Ortelius map, c. 1592

St Patrick’s Purgatory, Lough Derg.

A century before Malory, according to Ramon de Perellós:-

“The Earl of March [23-year-old Roger Mortimer, 4th Earl, who was Lieutenant of Ireland and had received the viscount on his arrival in Ireland] had gone to England and leaving there we arrived at Dublin where we embarked to cross to England. And in that city I was most honorably received by the noblemen and clergy. And out of there I crossed the sea and we arrived Wales before a harbor called Holyhead and thence by daily stages we arrived in England, where I found the king [Richard II] in a town called Chester where there is a most beautiful abbey of Benedictine monks where the king was staying; the queen [Isabella of Valois, Richard’s second queen] was also there and I was notably received. And from there by daily stages I crossed the island of England and passing through London I reached the port of Dover where I saw Sir Gawain’s head — for here he died — and also La Cote Mal Taillée for the knight who wore it was so called. And they kept this in the castle for their great chivalry. And there I embarked and crossed to Calais. . .”

Dover Castle circa 1190

So, where was Gawain actually buried? And what happened to the head and mantle at Dover Castle? How long had they been there? If not Gawain’s, whose were they?

And, of course, was there ever a Sir Gawain in the first place? That is something we might never know. Or prove.

Footnote: I have been unable to pinpoint exact when Ramon de Perellós was in Ireland/Chester/Dover. The given date of September 1397 seems specific, and yet according to my research, Richard II did not visit Chester at all in 1397, let alone in September. Richard was in Shrewsbury in January/February 1398, but even then I cannot find that he also went to Chester. Even if he had been there in the September of 1398, the date would not work because Roger Mortimer, 4th Earl of March had been killed in Ireland in the July. De Perellós would surely have recorded this, and yet he speaks of Mortimer as very much living. Richard was in Chester in 1387 and again in early 1399. If he went there in between those dates, I have not come across a reference.

De Perellós states that Roger Mortimer had returned to England when he, de Perellós, arrived in Ireland. According to Saul, Mortimer was in England for the first half of 1397. He returned to Ireland before the end of July 1397, and then visited England again in January 1398. So Mortimer might indeed have met Ramon de Perellós in September 1397, in Ireland. But that still leaves the impossibility of meeting Richard and Queen Isabella in Chester in that same year. They simply did not go to Chester at all. According to Saul, the furthest north Richard travelled in 1397 was Nottingham. In September he was in Westminster and Kingston-upon-Thames. Very definitely nowhere near Chester.

So, either de Perellós is wrong about the date, or about it having been Chester, which does indeed have the lovely Benedictine abbey—now Chester Cathedral—to which de Perellós refers and where Richard did indeed stay when visiting the town.

If my reasoning for all this is flawed, please tell me. It has no impact anyway upon the story of Gawain’s head being at Dover. I am just curious about where and when the meeting with Richard and his queen actually took place.

Many of us watched the TV version of Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall, showing a nicely unsanitised view of the Tudor world. Wolf Hall itself, of course, is the grand manor where Henry met his third wife, Jane Seymour–the one often described as ‘mousy’ but the ‘only one Henry loved’ (because she gave him a living son and then expired, giving him no need to remove her head.)

Wolf Hall, which stood near Burbage in Wiltshire, vanished centuries ago after becoming derelict as early as 1571, only 40 years after it was built, undoubtedly due to the decline in the family fortunes, which included several beheadings… The church in Great Bedwyn still retains some original glass saved from the hall; it also boasts the stunning tomb of Jane’s father and some other highly interesting memorials of the period.

After the remains of the ruined hall were completely demolished in the 1700’s, another house was built near the place where the great manor house once stood. Nothing remained above ground. But this year there has been an excavation of the site, and Wolf Hall has, after all these centuries, been found–the archaeologists have now revealed the plan of two hexagonal towers and an amazingly complete brick sewers, along with a collection of painted tiles.

The Travels of Leo of Rozmital in the 15th century are fascinating, and if you register (free) for a virtual library card here you can read about them for 14 days. You can access up to five books all told.

Between 1465 and 1467 Leo (a Bohemian nobleman and celebrated jouster who died this day in 1486) undertook diplomatic missions for his brother-in-law, the King of Bohemia. He and his companions kept meticulous records of their travels. You can find out more about him here

Anyway, my reason for dipping into his travelling records was to glean all the information I could about travelling in Europe in the medieval period. My year of interest at present is 1394, but nothing much changed between then and the reign of Edward IV. This is how I happened upon the following passage:-

“. . .Edward IV was known for his lavish hospitality, and when the travellers had been luxuriously lodged in an inn, and had been kissed by the hostess and maids, they were formally welcomed by a herald and certain Privy Councillors. They were then given audience of the King and invited to a mighty banquet with sixty dishes, after which the King bestowed collars or badges (symbola) on his guests and knighted certain of them. He would have knighted others, but the honour was declined, perhaps on account of the fees. Later, at court, they saw Elizabeth Woodville churched in great state after the birth of the Princess Elizabeth. Another banquet was prepared, at which Warwick, the King-maker, acted as host, and after this they were conducted to an alcove, which which they watched the Queen at dinner. So strict was court etiquette that even the Queen’s mother and the King’s sisters had to kneel before the Queen while she was at table, and not a word was spoken during the whole meal, which lasted for three hours. Afterwards there was a state ball, at which Margaret of York (soon to be married to Charles the Bold of Burgundy) and other ladies danced. Then music was provided by the King’s choristers, and Tetzel tells us that here, and later at mass he had never heard such fine singing. . .”

I’m sure I can hear some medieval teeth-grinding! Warwick must have had a very fixed smile when it came to Elizabeth Woodville, and while I can imagine her mother, Jacquetta of Luxemburg, kneeling willingly enough to her, I think the King’s sisters would not have been so eager. More fixed smiles and grinding of teeth. Did they have to kneel there at her feet for three long hours? For their knees’ sake, I hope not.

There is a much more detailed description of this occasion between pages 44-49, including a mention of the queen being escorted by “two dukes”. Might these have been Richard and George? It seems the kneeling ladies were spared, being allowed to take their own seats as soon as the first course had been served to the queen. Thank goodness for that. But I’ll bet those of Edward IV’s blood were still not amused.

There is a lot more in this fascinating book—including many anecdotes, naughty and polite—and I recommend registering for a virtual library card. It is also available at Amazon.